![]() Then, perhaps predictably given the visual power of his writing, Barker tried his hand at movie-making. Many of the novels which followed seem less satisfying to me in fact, I couldn’t even get through some of them – the epic fantasies Weaveworld and Imajica were the only ones which had the same impact on me as the stories. The Books of Blood are dense condensations of a ferociously fertile imagination. I quickly bought the other three volumes, and although there were inevitable variations in quality, I sought out everything he published over the next few years. I’d never read anything like it and the combination of acute psychological observation with an epically insane concept rendered in precise, literate prose made him an instant favourite. Actually, it was the fifth story in volume one that really hooked me – “In the Hills, the Cities”. I was instantly hooked, reading all fifteen stories in a few days. ![]() I first encountered the work of Clive Barker back in 1986 when a friend gave me the first three paperback volumes of The Books of Blood for my birthday. ![]() Say his name three times to the mirror and he will appear to kill you: Bernard Rose’s Candyman (1992) ![]()
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